Foreseen Crossroads
by Angelic Temptress
Summary: Faith is outside of LA and runs into an Irish half-demon. (Before BTVS season 3) Spoilers for ANGEL


"Foreseen Crossroads" By: Jade O'Neal Disclaimer: Don't own the characters. Joss and those other smarties do. Rating: PG-13 for language and the "S" word Notes: Takes place before BtVS season 3 Spoilers: Season 3 and parts of ANGEL Season 1  
  
(*)  
  
Faith smiled at the bartender and waited for him to smile back. He did, and then he poured her a drink.  
  
"It's on the house," he told her. She swallowed the whiskey in one gulp.  
  
Although only seventeen, the Chosen One already used her own kind of LSD: Liquor, Sex, and Driving stakes through vampires' hearts. Those were her turn-ons, her three passions.  
  
The slayer was on her way to Sunnydale but had stopped in a small bar outside of Los Angeles to have a good time. So far, the bartender, who was short, fat, and bald, happened to be the best looking guy in the joint. Something told her that she wouldn't be very lucky tonight.  
  
Just before Faith was going to leave, the bar's front door swung open, and a guy walked in. He wasn't much to look at, but something about him made Faith want to stay. He was different. She could tell.  
  
"Scotch," he ordered and sat down beside her. He hadn't shaved lately but had black hair and blue eyes. His skin looked as if it never saw the sun. Faith knew he wasn't a vamp though. She couldn't smell it on him.  
  
When he picked up the shot glass, she noted the silver claddagh ring on his finger; he was Irish. His clothes were wrinkled and mismatched, but that didn't matter. Somehow, it matched his essence. He seemed depressed and almost pitiful. Something was wrong with his life, and he had to pay for it. Faith could see it all on his rough face.  
  
"Hey," she said to get his attention. He glanced at her but did not reply. She continued. "I haven't seen you here before."  
  
"That's because you've never been here before," he remarked with his Irish accent.  
  
Faith grinned. "True. What are you? A regular?"  
  
"You could call it that." He moved his eyes from her and to his empty glass. "You don't fool me, girl."  
  
"Fool you?"  
  
"You're not twenty-one. You're barely eighteen."  
  
"Why should you care? You're not serving the drinks."  
  
He slightly chuckled. "Don't think I'm not on to you. Honestly, I don't get a whole lot of come-ons from women, but I know it when I see it."  
  
Faith nodded. "Good. Then we can cut to the chase and face facts." She put a hand on his thigh and slowly ran her fingers over his jeans, knowing it would tickle. "So what do you say? You need comfort; I need action. You're depressed; I'm horny. Let's put two and two together."  
  
He looked down at her hand and then at her. "Sorry, girl. I'm not interested." The barfly tossed her hand aside and turned back to his empty glass.  
  
"What the hell is the matter with you?"  
  
"With me? Please, you're the one bothering." He paid the bartender and stood. The guy made his way out the door, and Faith followed close behind. When they got to the sidewalk, he snapped around to face her. "Listen, girl –"  
  
"Name's Faith," she interrupted and smiled devilishly.  
  
Unexpectedly, he slightly smiled in return. He let out a breath and scratched the back of his head. "Doyle."  
  
"I like that." She stepped toward him and put her hands on his hips. "I just want one night. No strings attached."  
  
Doyle's forehead wrinkled. "You're hurting too. Aren't you, girl?" When Faith didn't respond, Doyle gently pushed a strand of hair away from her face and behind her ear. Almost with pity in his sad eyes, he asked, "Where do you want to go?"  
  
(*)  
  
Panting, Doyle laid his head on Faith's chest. She ran her hand through his thick hair and closed her eyes.  
  
"Where are you from, Faith?" he asked for no reason at all.  
  
"Not here," she answered as Doyle crawled off of her. She sat up in bed. "You?"  
  
"L.A." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pulled on his pants. "I'm waiting for someone there."  
  
"Who? A girl?"  
  
"No," he said as he put on his old bowling shirt. "It's got to do with business. The thing is that he won't be there for another year." Doyle slipped on his shoes and asked, "Where are you headed?"  
  
"Sunnydale. There's a girl I need to meet up with."  
  
"A friend?"  
  
Faith grinned. "You know how everyone has an equal? She's mine. We're the only two of our kind."  
  
"Really? You must be very close."  
  
She shook her head. "Nope. We've never met."  
  
Doyle laughed and leaned in toward Faith. He gently kissed her and then stepped back to pull on his leather jacket. She watched him as he gathered his things. Faith could see a hidden emotion but didn't recognize it.  
  
He sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed. "Promise me that you'll respect yourself and that you'll think things through," he requested.  
  
"What?" Faith laughed and wrapped the sheets tighter around her slender body. "You sound like a teacher."  
  
She didn't notice the smirk on his face. "You have no idea."  
  
The slayer came to him and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. "There's something about you, Doyle. I wish I could pinpoint it."  
  
"But you won't get a chance to." He stood and winked at her. "You said that you were leaving for Sunnydale?" When she nodded, he turned away and left for the door. Before he walked out, he said, "Thank you."  
  
Faith didn't know that Doyle had just saved her life. Before even meeting her, he had known where to find her. Doyle had seen a vision of her in a bar fight, and there was a demon who would have slit her throat if she had stayed in that bar any longer.  
  
Doyle was a half-demon who knew that Faith was the second slayer.  
  
He also knew that she'd meet up with a vampire named Angel.  
  
What Faith believed she knew was that he was just a lonely guy who needed a little nookie... and nothing more.  
  
Faith was wrong.  
  
He wasn't just some guy.  
  
Doyle was someone who saved her directly and would save her indirectly in the future.  
  
Without him, there'd be no Angel to save the world and no Angel to save a homicidal Faith.  
  
The slayer got out of the motel's bed and walked to the bathroom to take a long, hot shower. She had to leave in the morning.  
  
(*FINISHED*) 


End file.
